


See You Again

by KrazyKeke



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Black!Reader - Freeform, Denial of Feelings, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Morally Ambiguous Character, Pre-Canon, Reader-Insert, Self-Indulgent, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29213574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyKeke/pseuds/KrazyKeke
Summary: in the sound of silence, we found sanctuary. in every word unspoken, love.
Relationships: Uta (Tokyo Ghoul)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

The world is unkind.

Harsh – some would call it _brutal_ even – and yet also, very, very fair.

You knew this with a certainty just as you knew that the sky is blue and grass is green. Some things you could change with time, effort, and persistence, and other things you just couldn’t, so it’d be wiser to simply move on. 

“–What are you talking about she only has a year to live?! You’re a doctor, do something!”

“Miss, please, I’m telling you–”

“This isn’t right! **No**.” Something is flung, hitting the floor with a muted thump. Blinking, you return to reality. Turning your head, you take note of the fact that there are papers strewn over the clean, white marble floor. A short woman, barely five feet tall, is gripping the lapels of the doctor’s jacket, all up in his face. “I don’t… I **refuse** to accept this. _Do the test **again**_ …!”

“Miss…” Hands at his side, body language passive and nonaggressive, the doctor didn’t do anything to free himself.

“Kiani, stop it.” You tell her in a calm, neutral tone. Or, at least, you try to. For a moment, your voice wavers, just for a split second, but Kiani hears you. Releasing the doctor, she returns to your side, taking a seat in the chair and reaching for your hand, which you allow without protest. “Doc, can you give us a second?”

“Of course, I’ll be right outside.”

Steadfastly ignoring the sympathy, (or is it pity?) in his tone, you wait until you hear him leave the hospital room before saying anything. “I don’t want you actin’ like that anymore. Like you ain’t got any sense or home trainin’. It wasn’t cute when you were a kid and it’s definitely not cute since you’re an adult.”

“But, sis–”

You talk over her. “These dramatic outbursts have got to stop. Aren’t you tired of this? I know I am. I’m really, _really_ tired of having to play babysitter. I-I mean, do you even comprehend what’s going on right now?”

“Of course–”

Again, you talk over her, voice raising to drown hers out, words spilling off your tongue quickly and gracelessly. “Because if you did, you certainly wouldn’t be stressin’ me out more than I need to be!”

Several moments of silence pass. “…I’m…I’m sorry.”

Breathing in deep, you exhaled. Got comfortable underneath the covers of the hospital bed. An uncomfortable pressure weighed on your heart and resided in your throat. “Me too. I’m sorry.”

Kiani tentatively reached out after a few minutes, her hand reaching for yours. “I didn’t…didn’t mean to get so out of pocket. I just…we should get a different opinion. He could be wrong.”

You didn’t say anything.

“Please? Won’t you…please…just another opinion. Don’t…don’t…” Her hand grasped yours tightly for a moment, but either way, you didn’t react. “Sis, we can talk to another doctor. That sounds better, don’tchu think?”

No. “Okay…”

The world is unkind.

Harsh – some would call it _brutal_ even – and yet also, very, very fair.

You knew this with a certainty just as you knew that the sky is blue and grass is green. Some things you could change with time, effort, and persistence, and other things you just couldn’t, so it’d be wiser to simply move on. 

There are people who live with the delusion that they can rail against fate and change the outcome. Others cover their ears and shut their eyes to avoid moving forward at all; and then, there are those who would prefer to bury their head in the sand and live in a permanent bubble.

Kiani probably would’ve been happy to go to doctor after doctor, to gain a different perspective and options. To avoid the glaring truth: you’re dying. Unfortunately for her, you’re a realist and, for the most part, pragmatic to the point of being cold. You make plans and get the ball rolling for the inevitable, talking to the bank and tying up any loose ends, update your will, etc.

And then you pack up the bare essentials and leave.

It’s difficult to compress a lifetime of missed opportunities into one year, but you’re determined to try. You go where you want to go, taking pictures, eating good food from state to state and then eventually you cross that last boundary into international waters. Dancing, laughing. Flirting. Sometimes you play with others, have a night in someone’s bed, but most often, you don’t.

There’s just too much to do and see.

You’re temporarily stranded in Tokyo, Japan until you get some things straightened out with your bank and Kiani is able to wire you the money from the “egg” you’d steadily dropping cash into over the years. Once the matter is resolved, you’d intended to hop on the next plane to another country, to see more of the world. However, despite the warnings about ghouls, it’s a beautiful city and you’ve always wanted to be here.

So you stay and explore, never visiting the same place twice.

It’s late June, maybe mid July when you meet _him_.

You’d gotten lost, traveling off the more well known streets and wandered by the shop twice before realizing that it’s even there. Frustrated and wanting to get back on the right path before it got too dark, you’d stepped inside…

…practically into what felt like an art museum.

Masks lined the walls. Beautiful and mysterious.

Inviting, yet at the same time, almost repelling in a way.

It could just be your imagination though, right?

…. _Right_?

Turning, goosebumps breaking out on the back of your neck for some reason, thoughts running rampant, you nearly jump out of your skin when the first thing you take note of is the red pupil surrounded by black sclera.

“Boo.”

You scream. 

You’re not proud of it, and you’re not someone who really screams, so that scares you even more. The angels in Heaven are probably scared too. As you do that, you point at the person and take two, three, giant steps backward. 

“The _hell_?!” Hand over your chest, you inhale, exhale, inhale exhale until your heart rate returns to its natural rhythm. “Oh my god, _why_?”

The individual, who you belatedly categorize as male, merely blinks at you and tilts his head slightly. “…I’m Uta. Welcome to my shop. Are you perhaps interested in buying a mask?”

…what? Error, error! Does not compute!

The least he could do is apologize!! Geez. “…I, yeah. I… guess… I’m Y/N…” Brows furrowing, you looked at him with uncertainty. 

Uta nodded, hand in one of his pockets as he turned and began to walk away. You glanced longingly at the front door entrance, wondering if you should make a break for it, but then again, you also still need instructions, so you follow after him. 


	2. Chapter 2

A smart person would never have returned to the little out of the way mask shop in the 4th Ward. You’d have chalked up the experience as weird and as common sense dictated, forgotten all about it. 

That is the safer route, the sane option.

So of course, you decided to be stupid. You kept coming back to the shop, although you were careful with how you planned your visits, spacing them out in between sight seeing and being a general tourist. 

The added bonus of your frequent visits being that although Uta’s face didn’t really change much expression-wise, you got the feeling that he was always a little surprised to see you.

“Do you really like it here that much?” 

Pulling the [oni mask](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebay.com%2Fc%2F1400705687&t=NDAzZTA2YzIwNzBjYjFkMDFjOWY3NzdmZGE4Mzc0ZTI0YTU5ODlkZix2ZlRObGRmaA%3D%3D&b=t%3AXMk1TwzrxXLoAD7rDaBoCw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fthekrazykeke.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F642256314393886720%2Fsee-you-again-2&m=1&ts=1612503415) away from your face, you glanced at Uta who stood a good distance away from you, hand in pocket, hip cocked against the edge of the counter. “What’s that now?”

“I said, ‘do you really like it here that much?’” Uta repeated himself, red on black eyes intently trained on your face. “This is the second time this week you’ve come by without buying anything.”

“Oof.” You exaggeratedly clutched at your chest. “That hurt, Uta-san. With how frequently I come by here, one would think you’d treat me as more than a customer. We’re friends now.”

“We’re not.”

The words are stated so bluntly and again, you clutch at your chest, miming being struck by an arrow. Uta didn’t respond to your joking around and playing, just stared at you. So, you cut the crap, reaching into your back pocket with a mock pout. “How much for this mask? I think it suits me.”

“10504.50 yen.” At the sight of your suddenly wide eyes and dropped jaw, Uta’s blank expression cracked, he smiled slightly and just for a split second. “Also, the mask doesn’t suit you.”

You turned your back to him, carefully returning the oni mask to the display it’d been set up on. The next second you turned around, you nearly jumped out of your skin at how close Uta is now. “Hey now! Shit, you need a bell or something.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t pay attention.” 

You can’t even pull off your comedic routine and drop your head in an ‘ashamed’ manner because you’d probably most likely hit your head against his chest, he’s standing that close. Before you could ask him to either back up and inquire what was his reason for being in your personal space, a tattooed finger reached out, lightly touching your chin, encouraging you to look up, so that’s what you did.

“…I can create a mask for you. Something that suits you.” He’s now adjusting your face, the faintest touch causing you to move this way and that. 

“Aww! That’s nice of you, Uta-sa-”

“The base color would be silver, perhaps. And the eyes would sewn shut, the better to hide your grief and… the _anger_.” He’s musing aloud, words quiet and almost a whisper, but you heard him. Part of you think it’s deliberate, that he’s making fun of you, mocking you.

And it worked. 

You reached a hand up, setting it upon his wrist. Uta blinked, staring down at your hand, then his unique gaze switched to you, and he…. for a lack of better words, it’s like he snapped out of that artist’s mode. He dropped his hand and took one step out of your personal bubble then another and another before whirling around and started walking away. 

He lifted a hand in farewell, waving it about in a sort of shooing manner.

“Come back again in two to three weeks.”

That should have been the end of you and his interactions. 

Regardless of how intriguing he is, he’d pressed on one of your triggers, maybe even on purpose, and you already had too short of a life to put up with the bullshit. Then again, maybe it was for that reason entirely that you decided that you were gonna keep seeing him, even after he finished the mask, to annoy him to death of course.

Until he told you upfront to go away, you wouldn’t.  
That’s what you decided.

And with that resolution settled in your head, you could go about your business. You enjoyed the sights, the food, and although your judgement said it’d be a bad idea, you had a couple of one night stands. The first is a lawyer that you’re like pretty sure has kids and a wife, and the other is a stressed college kid. 

The experience left you unsatisfied and irritated. 

Since your last encounter with Uta had been…awkward and strained, you decided to bring a peace offering. Cream puffs for yourself with green tea and a cup of black coffee for him. You’d picked up on the fact that he liked the beverage without sugar and cream like the total heathen he is. You idly wondered if he even enjoyed sweet things or maybe he was one of those weird folks who liked sour and spicy stuff all the time.

The fact that you’re even thinking about this and it didn’t sink in as odd or out of place until the moment you crossed the threshold of HYSY Studios, taking note of the fact that the place is as gloomy and empty of customers as always. 

“’Ey! Uta, where you at!?” 

There’s a vibration against your leg. You juggle the items in your hold carefully before tugging out your cellphone and entering the passcode to unlock the phone. The most recent text message you’d received from Uta about four minutes ago informed you of the fact that he’s in the back of the studio, like the very, very back, where all the unused and returned masks were. Now the only reason you knew all this information is because of how often you pestered Uta about it. 

You’re at an impasse. 

You could do as he asked and bring your treat to him while you were at it or you could wait and avoid the potential jump scare that Uta was totally capable of inflicting upon you. 

‘To go or not to go, that is the question.’ 

Everything pointed to the clear conclusion that no, you absolutely should not go back there. Every horror movie cliché ended with the female protagonist being killed or gravely injured because she was so stupid as to go in the dark, alone, by herself. 

‘Uta isn’t a killer though.’ That’s what you tried to tell yourself, the argument weak and pitiful in your brain. 

You did not know this man well enough to be in the back where it wouldn’t be easy access to the front door, where you couldn’t bolt if he did something strange. However, you did own a mini taser and always carried mace, just as a precaution, so… 

So….

Slowly, reluctantly, you did as he instructed, every warning and life training you’d received up to this point in your life sending out red neon signs telling you to wait, not be an idiot, to please please stay where you are. And you ignored all those survival instincts, heading deeper into the studio, your footfalls loud and eerie the further in you went. 

Until you find him. 

He’s apparently unfazed by your belated presence, focus wholly consumed with his work. Red on black eyes glanced at you for but a moment and what you carried and then at the coffee. “There’s a mini fridge, leave everything there, except the coffee. I’m almost done.” 

Having some mild experience with artists and creative sorts, you avoid looking at the mask he’s working on, instead setting down the coffee in an empty space he vaguely gestured to. 

Then you walk the short distance to where the only mini fridge in the room is, reaching out, you pull it open. And it’s the scent that alerts you; the fresh tang of blood. It’s too late to stop yourself and you see it, everything. The jar of eyeballs, the carefully wrapped packages of ‘meat’. 

‘I’m in a back room with the potential copycat Jeffery Dahmer or…or….’ 

You’re not an idiot, all these little things you’d casually dismissed because you hadn’t cared enough to pay attention, to see… And now here you are. Here you are. 

_**Fuck**_.

Swallowing, you calm and dampen the inner voice sCREAMING, then casually as possible, grip wobbling only slightly, do you put your treat inside the mini fridge right alongside the human body parts and flesh, then close the door, turning around. 

Uta is still hard at work on the mask but his movements are slowing down.

As if nothing is amiss, you stride over just as he finally pauses to take a sip of coffee. “This is one of the ways that you make masks. Really. That’s interesting…” And you meant it too. Legs crossed, you leaned against the table, watching the mask maker in his element.

He smiles at you in that enigmatic way. “Thank you.” 

The visit continues without much else in the way of incidents and subtly unsubtle revelations. 

You don’t really talk and Uta doesn’t make you. 

Less than twenty minutes later, once he deems the mask complete, he stands up and stretches, arms raising overhead, revealing an expanse of creamy, pale, lean and muscled torso. 

Glancing away a beat too late, you catch Uta as he smiles, again, the smile lengthens into a smirk. He reaches out and plucks up the [half mask](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebay.com%2Fitm%2FJapanese-Noh-Mask-Omen-Kabuki-Karasu-Tengu-Wolf-Skull-Halloween-Cosplay-Japan-%2F254440641338&t=YTRlMWVhYzI2MzBmMDYwMjdlNDVhODgzYjI1MWRjYTdkOTA2MDBmYyx2ZlRObGRmaA%3D%3D&b=t%3AXMk1TwzrxXLoAD7rDaBoCw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fthekrazykeke.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F642256314393886720%2Fsee-you-again-2&m=1&ts=1612503415) delicately, taking a step towards you and your heart traitorously lurches in your chest. 

Self-preservation makes you want to run as he comes closer, closer, closer…

Logic keeps you rooted in place as he carefully puts the mask on you. Tattooed fingers brush the strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, lingering as he feels the flutter of your pulse beneath his fingertips. 

“Your heart is racing like a hummingbird.” he muses. You stare out at him from beneath the safety of the mask, the bone surprisingly not pinching or cutting your skin. “And here I thought nothing could scare you.”

“Unfortunately fear makes up the majority of the human psyche.” You can’t help the quip, tone dry. “But you’re my friend, so it’s fine.” 

That last comment causes Uta to blink and stare at you in blatant surprise for a minute or two. Then he pulls himself together and shakes his head, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. “…I suppose we are friends.”

“Cool. So how much for the mask?” You reach up, about to remove it but Uta swatted at your hands, the action hard enough to sting but not leave damage. You still squawk indignantly anyway.

“It’s free. Creating it got me out of my block, so thank you.” Bringing out a cellphone, he takes a couple pictures with you, making you turn, pose, and pretty much just show off. 

Once he’s done, he snags your tea and cream puffs out the fridge, then walks you to the front of the studio, giving a small wave goodbye. Brain swimming with what you just learned, amazed that he hadn’t just killed you straight off, you glance at the chilled green tea in your hand then after mentally shrugging to yourself, you take a sip and shove a cream puff in your mouth. 

Hell, after the day you’ve had, you deserve to be rewarded.

Time passes, as it inevitably does. 

You receive more calls from Kiani, from other friends and family members, but you are resolute in staying in Japan. 

Much to your surprise, you’d actually gotten comfortable being there. Though that might have had something to do with Uta, who you continue to visit, and if he’s surprised or put out, none of that shows on his face. It’s fun to drag him places, to be around him, and you can laugh at his jokes, even the deadpan, making-fun-of-humanity ones. 

He even lets you meet his other ghoul friends, Itori and Renji. 

Through it all, these changes and fun things, your health slowly, steadily, gets worse even as you and Uta get closer, muddling about in a rather confusing grey area of friends…and more…

As always, the two of you are hanging out, this time you’d dragged him to an amusement park, and he held onto some of the prizes you won, gamely snapped a couple photos of you in ridiculous poses and making silly faces, etc. 

It felt like a date.

Like, you’re returning from a date.

When that thought ran through your brain, you automatically looked at Uta, catching sight of his profile in the light of the setting sun and your heart clenched as you realized that he’s _beautiful_. 

It’s with difficulty that you manage to look away but not before he catches you staring from the corner of his eye. “You’re always looking at me… Yet, you never try and get closer…” Uta’s hands are in his pockets and he is barely a foot away. “Does fear keep you at a distance…” He took a step forward. 

Coming almost uncomfortably close. 

“Or is there another….” 

Without conscious thought, you tilt your head up and your lips meet his. 

The contact is light, barely a graze, and there’s the cool sensation of his lip ring…it’s odd but hardly distracting. Your heart is beating like a jack rabbit in your chest and you know this isn’t good for you.

As you go to pull away, to disconnect, that’s when Uta finally, _finally_ , responds.

He places a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close before tilting his head, leaned in and kissed you again. 

There’s nothing teasing or patient about it. He nipped your bottom lip, barely waiting for you to part your lips before his tongue twined and stroked, expertly playing with your own, and you felt a zing of excitement travel down you spine as your tongue lightly grazed his tongue ring. 

Your right hand goes to his shoulder, squeezing, holding on desperately as your legs threaten to give out. 

Effortlessly, Uta holds you up, his other hand going to the dip of your back, and when you break the kiss to get some air into your burning lungs, Uta peppers feather light kisses down the column of your throat, sucking a spot just behind your ear. Only when you gasp his name, a mere whisper of a breath really, only then, does he finally stop.

Uta tops that….bombardment off with a light kiss to your forehead, lingering. Then he murmurs into your ear, “ _That’s_ how you kiss me from now on.” 

With his piece said, as if he hadn’t pretty much swept you off your feet and left you stuck in LaLa Land, Uta brushed a hand down his shirt, straightening out imaginary wrinkles, before he walked away. It took a few seconds for your brain to reboot and then you hurried after him, chastising him for being mean.

There are a hundred different words that lingered on the edge and never escape your mouth. A thousand questions you never got the answer to. 

There are no more kisses between you and Uta. 

You pass away in your sleep that night December 31, 2XXX at 11:59 P.M. alone in your rented hotel room, dreaming of an impossible reality; of happiness between yourself and the ghoul who for a brief moment, made you feel important, seen, and desired. 

Almost as if he could love you.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review, leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed it.


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